


Let's Agree to Keep Work Out of It

by DilynAliceBlake



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angels and Demons, M/M, Magic, Supernatural Elements, i'll explain if you ask, if you're sort of squicky about some things just holler at me, it's difficult to explain without spoilers, mild body horror i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 6,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DilynAliceBlake/pseuds/DilynAliceBlake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Writing this was an accident.  </p><p>Hamilton is a demon, and when Burr finds out his solution is to keep their friendship separate from Alexander's work life.  Except then some of the demons are at war with each other, and of course Hamilton has to go and get himself involved.  Aaron knows he should stay out of it, and stay away from Alexander altogether.  Knowing and doing are two very different things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Angels and Demons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7127153) by [flibbertygigget](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget). 



Burr spots a particular book from his place on Hamilton’s office doorstep, and his blood very nearly turns to ice in his veins.  He has no doubt, as he sways on his feet in shock, that he has turned a deathly pale.

“Burr?  Are you alright?  You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“A demon.”

“What?”

“You’re a _demon_ , Hamilton.”

Understanding dawns on the other man’s face, mixing with the concern that has only deepened.

“Hey, you don’t have to be afraid of me.  We’re friends.”

Burr very nearly laughs.

“Are we?” he asks, unable to help the color of skepticism in his tone.

“Yes!”

“No, Hamilton.  You’re… I can’t be friends with you.  Not now that I know what kind of contracts it is you’re constantly drawing up!”

“I could erase your memory, if that-”

“ **NO!!** ” Burr shouts, because under _no_ circumstances can he come into contact with Otherly Magics.  He hasn’t kept off the radar this long just for it to be ruined by a friend trying to help.

_A friend._

“Alright, look, let’s just…Go get lunch.  And _while_ we’re having pancakes, you can try and talk yourself back into my good graces.”

Some of the misery that’s been taking up residence on Hamilton’s face leaves, and Aaron feels a little guilty watching him light up with hope as if Burr has just handed him the world, instead of agreeing to listen to Hamilton’s defense before abandoning him.

“It’s my turn to pick where we have lunch,” Hamilton says softly.

“These are extenuating circumstances,” Burr refutes briskly.

Since that’s undeniably true, they go out for pancakes.


	2. Chapter 2

“I can’t believe you’re making me miss Mexican Monday,” is the first thing that Hamilton says once they’ve been seated.

“You can pick where we have lunch next time,” Burr responds, flipping open his menu.

It’s automatic, this banter they have, and it honestly hurts a little to watch Hamilton nearly sag, tension draining from him at the reassurance that this won’t be their last shared meal.

“That’ll flip the whole schedule around!  I’ll never get to go to Mexican Monday again!”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” Burr teases, but Hamilton has decided that now would be the ideal time to address the elephant in the room.

“Burr… If that’s what it takes to stay friends with you, I’d let you pick where we went to eat every day.”

It’s such a small thing, but it’s spoken so softly, so _tenderly_ , that Burr can hear the implied ‘ _anything within my power.’_

It’s slick and oily, the Magic of it waiting for his counter offer, creeping in to latch onto his soul.

“Hamilton, **stop**!”


	3. Chapter 3

The Magic tenses, and across the table, Hamilton’s eyes are wide.

“We are _not_ drawing up a Contract to keep our friendship in place!”

The Magic dissipates, and across from him Alexander looks torn between guilt and confusion.

He’s postponed from whatever it is he has to say by a harried waitress coming to get their drink orders.

They’re fairly regulars there, so she turns to Hamilton to get his order first, since it changes every time.

“Raspberry tea, if you please,” he requests cheerfully.  He’s got a smile plastered across his face, possibly trying to look cheerful.  Burr is in no mood for pretense.

“And water without ice for you?” she asks Burr, clearly expecting him to confirm his usual.

“No, I’ll have a chocolate milk, _with_ ice this go ‘round.”  The waitress looks startled, but writes it on her flipbook with a nod and leaves to get their orders.

Alexander’s eyes are attempting to bulge from their sockets, and Burr can’t help a small smile.

“Everything alright, Alexander?”

“Burr, you just ordered something besides water, and asked for ice in your drink.”

“I’ve had a bit of a day today, Hamilton.  I felt something stronger than water was called for.”

“And you chose _iced milk_?”

“Warm milk,” Aaron deadpans, “is the unholiest thing to touch this planet.”

This is enough to shock a laugh from Alexander, and then the waitress is setting down their drinks practically as she passes by.  Burr thinks perhaps that it’s lucky that they’re busy today, because this is not a conversation he wants other patrons trying to listen in on.

“Burr, are we…Okay?”

Aaron sighs.

“I’m not sure, Alexander.  I’d like a bit of an explanation from you, at least.”

“Those contracts aren’t mine,” Hamilton is quick to clarify, and Burr is surprised, but thankful considering how many he’s seen his companion write up.

“I’m a Contract Demon.  I draft the Contracts for other demons’ deals, and in exchange am given a small portion of the soul in question.”

“That sounds… Reasonable,” Burr risks.

“I keep what I need to sustain me, and then the rest I trade for money at the Otherworld Exchange.”

Aaron knows what that is, and so also knows that there is absolutely no way Hamilton is supposed to be mentioning it.

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be telling me so much about how it all,” he gestures with a small movement of his wrist, “works?”

“Well, no,” Hamilton admits, “But I figured I kind of owed you a full explanation about my work.”

“I’d rather we just… Kept your work out of it, from now on.”

“And then we can stay friends?” Hamilton asks, innocently hopeful.  Which is annoyingly obvious as a front, since the Contract Magic is slinking in again.


	4. Chapter 4

“ **Hamilton** ,” Burr reprimands sternly, and it stops.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Know when it’s…” Hamilton sweeps an arm widely, motioning to the air between them.  His face crinkles in thought.  “Actually, how did you recognize that I was a demon?”

Burr winces.  He had forgotten that his gifts and education, while mostly dormant and unused, were still not things normal humans had access to.

“My grandfather was extremely religious,” he settles for, being unable to lie.  After all, if anyone is extremely religious, it’s an angel.

“Is that why you’re so uptight?”

“I’m not uptight.”

“Your idea of a strong drink is, apparently, chocolate milk.”

Burr takes a sip of his milk and waggles his eyebrows.  Hamilton struggles not to smile in response.

“It is why I don’t drink,” he admits aloud.  ‘ _Or lie, or fight, or go near Magic, or do anything fun,’_ his thoughts continue.  Still, if he wants to stay out of Otherworldly affairs, he can’t do anything that would trigger his Inheritance.  Considering most of mixed heritage are triggered in their early teens, and he’s successfully made his late twenties, Burr is willing to count that as a success.  It isn’t a streak he intends to break.

The waitress comes back to take their orders, and lunch after that is surprisingly normal.


	5. Chapter 5

Normal lasts for exactly four days, before in the middle of one of their shared meals Hamilton freezes.  Now that Burr is _aware_ of the fact that Hamilton is a demon, awareness is constantly buzzing through him.  His own magic is weak, buried as it is, but it’s still in his blood.  It can’t be rejected and ignored completely.  Presently, it’s doing its utmost to constantly be completely, _intimately_ aware of Hamilton.

Burr thought it was bad two years ago, when his crush had first flared up and had him keeping track of every twitch of Hamilton’s fingers and sigh from his lips.  Now, it’s so much worse, because he is suddenly also aware of what the demon across from him feels like on a soul deep, magical level.  Aaron is full of puppy love nerves all over again.

Burr’s attention perks up like a prairie-dog at Hamilton’s stillness, and he can sense the magic suddenly pooling in Hamilton’s bag.  Years of “I just have this contract I need to finish,” and “Do you mind if I work on something while we eat?”s are whispering through Aaron’s memory.

The thought of Alexander sitting across from him designing the signing away of somebody’s soul twists in Aaron’s stomach.

Not because Burr minds, but because he _should._

Hamilton, the poor sap, is sat across from him torn between leaving lunch early, and trying awkwardly to ignore it.

Burr licks his lips.  Keeping Hamilton from his work was never practical.  He never really truly intended for it to be a long term solution.  He couldn’t have, because he _knows_ Hamilton.  But to say that now would be tipping his hand, somehow, he’s sure.

He’ll wait.

Hamilton ignores the Contract.

The rest of Burr’s meal tastes halfway like vindication, and halfway like he’s running out of denial about the mounting problems his feelings and this relationship present.  He adds more salt to compensate.


	6. Chapter 6

Burr starts having dreams that he has wings.  Well, that’s slightly less than true.  He has been dreaming he has wings since shortly after he turned fifteen.  The trick has always been to not want the dream to be real.  To refuse, strongly, the image his dreams weave as an image of self.  It used to be easy.  Shortly after drifting off to sleep Aaron would feel his magic fizzing like soda through his insides, and then he’d suddenly be floating among clouds with wings and glowing skin, feeling that his words could go beyond just _truth_ to border on _law_.

Burr would combat this with the thought of every feather of responsibility those wings were made of, and the self-reassurance that a spear ended staff in his left hand could never fit as naturally as a pen.  He would pile on unwanted weight and dislike until dysphoria took him crashing down, ending the dream.  Then he could rest easy, another day of pseudo-humanity secured.

Now his subconscious is kicking it up a notch in attempting to get him to unlock the chains he’s dutifully kept around those parts of himself.

He dreams of Alexander, wrapped in his wings, safe and close.  Thoughts like _eternity_ and _together_ hum an angel’s chorus in the background.  He wakes up shaking, sweating, feeling light and buoyant and the best he has in years.  It’s miserable, because it’s the beginning of the end.  It’s a dream he has trouble saying no to.

Every morning it takes more effort not to grab hold of that effervescent feeling with all his might.  The whispering of his magic trying to expand is difficult to tamp down.  Burr has not fought his family legacy this long to give up because of a crush on an immortal demon, and his own inevitable mortality should he refuse.

The only solution is to prove to himself that he wouldn’t have a chance at forever with Alexander Hamilton, even if he _did_ have wings.


	7. Chapter 7

In all the time that Aaron has known Alexander Hamilton, he has never shown up to their standing lunch date early.  Burr has always been carefully punctual, for all that Alexander's absorption in his work has indicated that it likely wouldn't matter.

It makes sense, then, that when Aaron bangs his fist on the door at barely past eight that morning, Alexander opens the door looking harried and confused.

When he sees who it is, Hamilton immediately makes to shove the papers in his hands out of sight, and since the most expedient option is behind his back, Burr can't help but giggle the slightest bit.

He clears his throat.  "Alexander."

"Aaron Burr, sir!  It can't be lunchtime already?"

"It isn't.  I just..."

Alexander is shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, the hand that doesn't hold the papers twitching for a pen.

"Oh, right," Burr says, "You can work on that.  I don't really care."

"You don't _care_?" Alexander questions, understandably incredulous.

"Burr, less than a week ago you very nearly ended our friendship, and now out of the blue you _don't care_?"

"I'm _fine_ , Alexander," Burr insists, as much to the hand suddenly on his forehead as to the Magic prodding at him in question.

"I don't mind what you do, Alexander.  It's more a matter of what you are."

"You _realize_ how that sounds?" Hamilton scoffs, which is fair.  That does sound a bit shallow.

"No, that isn't what I mean.  I know all demons aren't inherently evil.  Ambitious, more like.  You're a good man, Hamilton.  It's just, well, we're very different."

"We're not _that_ different, Burr.  Why is me being a demon such a big deal to you?  It can't be the supernatural aspect; that seems to sit fine.  Do I have to convince you that I'm still the same person?"

"Of course you're the same person you've always been!  You're still the same infuriating, workaholic, loudmouthed-" Burr cuts off and takes a breath, steeling himself.

"Alright, in the doorway it is then," Aaron concedes, a seeming non-sequitur to Alexander.

"What-" is as far as Alexander gets, because then Burr is kissing him.


	8. Chapter 8

Alexander is confused, but that doesn't stop him from kissing back.  All the strangely mixed signals he's been getting from Burr make sense, when put into this context.  The kiss is something that Hamilton had never dared to hope for, but now that he has it he feels positively covetous.

Time is lost, until someone on the street wolf whistles, and Burr is pulling away looking terrified.

"You weren't supposed to kiss me back!" he yells, voice wavering, and Hamilton is getting fed up with trying to predict and decipher Burr's actions.  Still, he yanks the darker man inside, slams the door, and kneels to gather his forgotten papers from the floor.

"I will never understand you," he mutters.

"The only complicated thing about my life is how I feel about _you_ , Alexander!  I had a very reasonable plan, and falling in love with a demon did _not_ factor in!"

Hamilton freezes, papers once again deemed unimportant.

"You love me?"  It's whispered softly, barely voiced, because surely Hamilton dreamt that.  But then, louder, because there is a distinction to be made and a question he needs answered.  "You're _in_ love with me?"

"Hamilton, I- That is to say- I didn't mean to say that."

" ** _That isn't a no_** ," Hamilton growls, because Burr has never once lied to him.

Alexander wants clarification, wants to know for how long Aaron has felt this way, and what about him being a demon brought the matter to a head.  Burr is looking at him with deer-like stricken eyes, as if he might pounce at any moment for something more than a kiss.  _Well_.

"Just, to be clear.  You love me.  You're _in_ love with me.  And you came here today, and kissed me, in the hopes that I _wouldn't_ reciprocate."

"...Yes," Burr says, and has the grace to sound embarrassed.

"Burr, I could write an entire book about how much sense that _doesn't_ make."

"Have you ever found a subject you _couldn't_ write a whole book on?"

"Well, I could hardly scrape enough good characteristics of Thomas Jefferson together for a passable essay."

Burr laughs, and it is only while watching his eyes shine with merriment that Hamilton realizes he's brought up work, and Aaron really doesn't mind.

There are an awful lot of things that suddenly don't make sense, with that revelation, but Alexander yanks Aaron down to the floor with him.  Burr lands hard on top of him, and it isn't exactly pleasant, but the kiss he pulled him down for is.


	9. Chapter 9

With every ounce of control he can muster, Burr flees, and barely finds the resolve to return at lunch time.

  
"So," he says awkwardly, "Where are we eating?"

  
"I don't know," Hamilton snarks, "Are you going to keep ignoring this, because if so they'll have to have a kid's menu."

  
It's the most roundabout way Burr has ever been called childish, and it's ridiculously ironic coming from the Nevisian.

  
' _Nevisian_ ,' the thinks, and tries to recall if that's a class of demon, or maybe a species.  He shakes the thought, and bites a response back.

  
"Alexander, you can't just rush headlong into this like you do everything else; there are things you haven't considered!"

  
"I love you, you love me, what else is there to consider?"

  
" _You're a demon_!"

  
Alexander groans.

  
"This again!" he spits, glaring balefully.

  
"No, Hamilton, listen to me.  You're _immortal_."

  
"Yes..?" he prompts, because of course with one follows the other, and that's hardly an explanation.

  
"No." Burr states flatly, in reference to their relationship, and the truth begins to dawn on Alexander.

  
"And you're..."

  
" _Mortal_ ," he emphasizes, trying just as much to remind himself.

  
"I would have to watch you die," Hamilton realizes.  "I'm _going to_ have to watch you die," he mumbles, because whether or not they are ever more than friends, he'll stay for every second he can have with Burr, and that's... Terrifying.

  
Guilt floods Aaron, because that isn't how it _has_ to be, and he's the one being so stubborn about this.  He's the one fighting, when it could be so easy.  The light statics through his skin again, and he tramps it down desperately.

  
"What was that?" Hamilton asks, looking up and squinting at the air above him.

  
"What was what?" he asks, too strained, too quickly, and is stumbling backwards out the door, because this was a bad idea.  Being around Hamilton when he wants him so badly, and yet there are still so many secrets between them....

  
"I've got to go...Not be here," he says, unable to lie.

  
"What, Burr, no-"

  
The door slams between them, and Aaron is gone by the time Alexander pulls himself together enough to open it.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Burr, who has had a key to his office for as long as Alex can remember, locked the door from the outside before leaving, and it takes an embarrassingly long and frustrating time for Hamilton to stop desperately jiggling the handle to realize and unlock it.

  
He stares out at his empty stoop, and then sinks to the ground, mind casting back to his memories of the last time he fell in love with a mortal.

  
"Eliza...Angelica...John...Am I doing the right thing?  Can I do this again?"

  
His heart breaks, because the answer is no, he can't, but he can't _not_ either.

  
It would be different this time, he knew.  Burr was aware he wasn't mortal.  Would staying be better or worse than watching from a hidden distance?  Surely it would hurt Aaron, to see him ageless, as he changed.  That was a suffering both Eliza and Angelica had remained ignorant of.

Then John's bleeding begging for a deal teases along his thoughts, and it's a good thing Hamilton is already sitting, or recalling John's look of betrayal at his own tearful refusal would take him to his knees.

  
Alexander knows what it's like to resent his own reflection, and it's a feeling he isn't eager to revisit.  He doesn't know if he would be strong enough, if Aaron asked him, to refuse to take Burr's soul in exchange for adding time.  How awful would it be, wearing the man's being as a necklace instead of allowing him to move on?  Worse than seeing him move on while Alexander stays behind?  Could he give up what was left of him at the Exchange?

  
Hamilton pounds a fist on the floor in frustration, because _none_ of this is something he could bare.  Surely there is a path for the future that wouldn't haunt him?

  
'... _No_ ,' he thinks, but then, ' _Yes?_ '

  
He's been going about it the wrong way.  Burr's mortality isn't the problem.  His own _im_ mortality _is_.

  
' _Demons are known_ ,' he thinks with a hysterical laugh, ' _for striking deals_.'


	11. Chapter 11

"Have you considered just telling him, how you say,  _the truth_?"

  
"Your advice sucks, Lafayette," he grumbles, facedown in a pillow.

  
The Marquis chucks a box of tissues at him.

  
"After I came all this way to help you!" he feigns offense.

  
"You fly in from France every time you want a hot dog.  I'm almost convinced I should report you for abuse of heavenly power."

  
Gil laughs.

  
"You know everyone important Upstairs already knows.  Besides, to file a complaint you'd have to be in the system.  Last I checked, you were trying to _avoid_ being in the system."

  
Burr holds out his thumb and pointer, pinched less than an inch apart.

  
"This close," he says.

  
"That close?"

  
"To giving up everything I've worked for."

  
"Truly?  You love this man that much?"

  
A muffled groan from the pillow.

  
"That is very unfortunate."

  
Aaron lifts up to look at Lafayette, face scrunched.

  
"What?  _What's_ unfortunate?"

  
The Marquis holds his own fingers to match the exact measurement that Burr had held earlier.

  
"That you do not love him this much more."


	12. Chapter 12

There's a loud banging on Alexander's door before the sun is up.

  
"Burr?  It's the middle of the _night_!  What are you doing here?"

  
"You weren't at your office."

  
"I don't _actually_ live there," he huffs, disgruntled.

  
"May I come in?"

  
"I'm not sure that-"

  
Burr shoves his way in anyway.

  
"Aaron?  What's gotten into you?"

  
"I've been talking to my grandfather, and-"

  
"The religious one?  Wait, I thought your grandfather was dead?"

  
"I never said that."

  
"No, I distinctly remember you saying that he wasn't among the living."

  
"Alexander, I'm going to need you to do us both a favor, and stop assuming anything I haven't outright _stated_."

  
"So, your grandfather, who isn't alive, but also isn't dead, said something to you that was so urgent you rushed over to talk to me at-" Alexander looks at his watch "One seventeen in the morning?"

  
"No.  My grandfather, who is alive but not- One seventeen you said? -Not _currently among_ the living, was visiting and he said something that made me realize that this much doubt," Burr holds up a measurement with his fingers nonsensically, "wasn't worth throwing away a chance for, stacked against the love."

  
"So your eccentric religious grandfather, who probably lives alone at a cemetery, convinced you that I was worth taking a chance for?"

  
"You were always worth taking a chance for; he just helped me realize it."

  
"You didn't say anything about the cemetery thing; was I right about that?"

  
"Not even close," Aaron proclaims smugly, then kisses him.

  
"Wait wait, one more question!"

  
" _What_ , Alexander?"

  
"How did you know where I _live_?" Hamilton inquires, genuinely curious.

  
"... _Shit_ ," Aaron hisses, because thinking back, he had just known, and that could only mean-

  
"Also, why are you glowing?"


	13. Chapter 13

"That's more than one question, Alexander," he states firmly, and the glow fades as his need for the magic lessens.  That's the beginning of it, he knows.  Now it will only take time for the rest to come, and he isn't looking forward to hiding out for the time it takes his wings grow in.  There's a reason this usually happens during the awkward teen years; it will be just as uncontrollably stop-start as a physical growth spurt.

  
To make himself feel better, he stretches out his previously stagnant Magic to rub against Hamilton's own.

  
It's like touching a live wire, shock and energy racing through his nerves.  Hamilton actually jumps, then looks at him wide eyed.

  
"That's..."

  
"Yes," he admits plainly.

  
"That's _you_."

  
"Mmm, you feel much clearer, like this."

  
"Aaron, what the _fuck_?"

  
"...Surprise?"

  
"How the Hell did you get Angel Magic?"

  
"Okay, don't be mad, but I've always had it."

  
"...You're the missing Guardian of New York."

  
"Yes."

  
"And you're only just now starting your Inheritance."

  
"Also yes."

  
"Which would make your grandfather-"

  
"Gilbert du Mortier, the Grand Marquis de Lafayette."

  
"Aaron, **_WHAT THE FUCK_**?"


	14. Chapter 14

**a/n: got a question about whether or not this was on hiatus.  as an answer?  *pours in drama like it was on sale by the gallon at the nearest fandom superstore***

 

 

Alexander is, in a word, pissed.

  
Actually, no, pissed does not _begin_ to cover it.

  
"How could you _keep this_ from me?"

  
"How could _I_?  How many years of friendship were you planning to stick around for before leaving me?"

  
"That's not-"

  
"No, for once in your life, listen instead of talking Alexander!  You wriggled your way into my life and my heart, but if I were a normal human, you wouldn't be able to stick around forever.  How can you _justify_ breaking my heart?"

  
"But I didn't!"

  
"But you _would've_!  You would have just _left_ and I never would have known why!"  Burr is shaking now, trembling at the thought, and the stress has him glowing, the skin on his back twitching in anticipation.

  
"Aaron, you need to calm down-"

  
Hamilton is shut up by the force with which Burr hugs him, stumbling back a step to try and support them both through the momentum.

  
"Burr?"

  
"Don't-" his voice breaks "Please don't leave me.  Everyone always leaves.  I already- So many people keep _dying_ , Theodosia, and my mother, and-"  Burr Hiccups, and Hamilton realizes that he's _crying_ , "I couldn't bare the thought of spending eternity outliving the people I love, and then I loved _you_ , but-"

  
"But I was a Demon," Alexander mumbles, finally understanding.  "I... You chose me.  After a lifetime of fighting..."  Hamilton tightens his hold, wrapping Aaron as tightly as he would dare, and then remembering that his strength won't crush him, so hugging him tighter still.  Alexander does his best to be soothing.

  
Aaron looks up at him from where he's cradled, tears glittering on his eyelashes and the glow of his skin slowly dimming.

  
"I've made a mistake," Hamilton mutters, closing his eyes against the sight before him, unable to stand facing it.  Not when he knows how likely it is that, after all that's happened between them, he could lose this.

  
"Hamilton..." tension fills Aaron's voice, and his muscles tighten with stress.

  
"No, not you!  I just... Remember what you said, about me having to leave you?  I didn't want to."

  
"...Alexander, what did you _do_?"

  
"I did what I thought I'd have to, to spend the rest of my life with you."

  
" _What did you **do**_?"

  
"I joined a losing fight.  If my side doesn't win, I forfeit my abilities.  All of them."

  
Burr's first reaction is irritation.  Why couldn't Alexander have just _waited_?  Then fear slips in.  The thought of dying when he could live with Alexander had been bad, but the thought of living while Alexander dies...It's everything he's ever feared.

  
"So win," he pushes through his panic to state, like it's simple as that.  "Put your all into whatever war it is you've gone and become a part of.  And when you've won, we can have our forever."

  
"I don't know if I can-"

  
"You _can_.  You have to."

  
"What about you?"

  
The skin along Aaron's back twinges again, and Burr hopes his blush isn't visible.

  
"I think I'm going to be out of commission until I finish getting my wings."

  
Alexander suddenly starts giggling.

  
"That's right.  You just started getting your magic.  You have to go through your awkward 'growing feathers' stage of the whole Angel shebang."

  
"Don't you have battle plans to be working on?" Aaron sulks, but he burrows deeper into Alexander's arms.

  
"I'll start on that tomorrow," Alex says.  "I'm busy tonight spending time with someone I love.  Nothing could be more important."

  
The glowing smile that Burr gives Hamilton is a little more literal than normal, but maybe it's better that way.


	15. Chapter 15

"Washington, Sir.  With all due respect, I don't think that this is the best course of action.  You aren't factoring in the Ley Lines, here, here and here."

  
Alexander points on the map, and several pairs of eyes turn to stare at him.

  
"Oh, so the morose little Contracter can talk," Mulligan crackles, the flames in his throat leaping as he speaks.  "I had wondered."

  
"Yeah, I can talk, and more than that I can _read_ , well enough to know that this idea isn't going to work."

  
Washington peers at him.

  
"A few days ago, you were perfectly willing to follow orders without argument.  Yesterday you snuck into enemy territory without warning or permission to steal their Blackfire Swords.  Today you're pointing out flaws not previously worth remarking upon.  What's changed?"

  
"Look, it doesn't matter, just-"

  
"If I'm to trust what you're saying, then it very much matters.  Why is this suddenly your war?"

  
"When I signed up to help you fight, it was because losing was the easiest way to stay with the man I've fallen in love with-"

  
There's a chorus of distrustful shouting, and the fire beneath Mulligan's black skin pops threateningly.  Alexander does not have the luxury of being nervous.

  
"Early yesterday morning I found out things had changed, and now _winning_ this war is the _only_ way I can stay with him.  He's trusting me to make it out of this alive and fully intact."  Hamilton clenches a fist until claws usually kept hidden are biting into his palm.

  
"I will not throw away my shot with him.  I'm willing to fight for it.  But that doesn't make me dumb enough to get lured into a trap!"

  
There is a pause, and then Washington uses one of his six arms to gesture to what appears to be a skeletal harpy to go and scout the areas Hamilton has just indicated.

  
The silence the next few minutes is tense, but when the winged creature returns to confirm what Alexander has said, Washington gives a tense nod, and Mulligan whoops and smacks Hamilton on the back.

  
"Welcome aboard our campaign, Son," Washington says.  "Now get to work marking those maps with anything else you may know and have conveniently forgotten to mention before."


	16. Chapter 16

Aaron had thought, during his naive teenage years, that acne and voice breaks were the worst and most embarrassing thing he would ever have to go through.  Now Burr only wishes he could go back to those days.

First there was the weird mucusy membrane that had covered his wings when they emerged.  Three bony sets, one at a time, just like growing in wisdom teeth only worse.  The top pair had been all he was expecting, and when they were stretching out from his shoulder blades Aaron had felt relieved that that was the end of it.

Then tips of the second pair had started poking out from the middle of his back, and Burr had felt like an awkwardly large dragonfly.

The third set had barely even been a surprise, resting towards the bottom of his spine as it did.  Aaron could only be thankful that that had been the end of _that_ , or else he would have a hell of a time sitting down.

His wings, which once cleaned were covered in the newborn fluff of baby chicks, had not been the most off putting part of this second puberty.

No, that had been the eyes.  Seven new ones, to be precise.  Thankfully, only two more on his face, though having eyes on his cheekbones was hardly ideal.  Except of course, maybe for his peripheral vision.

An eye on the back of each hand, for some unfathomable reason, had Burr sitting for hours practicing blinking them, trying to reconcile them as part of his body.  Staring himself in the eye made Aaron dizzy and gave him headaches.

His first fourty-eight hours without Alexander around ended with three eyes along his spine, (one centered between each set of wings), and Aaron sullenly shoving the gooey remains of his now-ruined favorite shirt down the garbage disposal with the wooden end of a plunger.  He flicked it on as angrily as one can flip a switch while sporting featherdown.

He had _better_ be able to fly after all of this was over.


	17. Chapter 17

"You're a literal four-eyes!" Alexander crows, and Burr sulks.

"I wish," he grumbles.

"What, there are more?  _Where_?"

Aaron holds out his hands and bats those eyes up at a Alexander.  It was difficult, and felt oddly like trying to bat just one eye; remniscent of winking.  It had taken practice, but the scrunched look on Hamilton's face was worth it.

"Do they serve a practical _purpose_?" Hamilton asks incredulously, and Aaron shakes his head.

"Not that I can think of.  I've got really good peripheral vision now.  Hardly the greatest superpower, but not completely useless.  Still, seven seems excessive."

"No no, holy number, makes perfect sense.  Wait...Seven?  Where are the others?"

"Not in plain sight," Burr says moodily, and then regrets it when he sees Alexander's train of thought.

"Oh my god, Burr, do you have eyes on your _dick_?"

" _NO!!_ Jeezus, Alex, get your head out of the gutter!"

"...That's good," Hamilton says, but he's still staring at Burr like if he looks hard enough the answer will reveal itself.

"They're on my spine, Alexander," Aaron relents and tells him, only for the Nevisian to blow up unexpectedly.

" ** _No fair!!!_** "  Aaron wonders what can possibly be unfair about that, but he doesn't have to wonder for long.

"You can watch me while I fuck you from behind?  Where's the _justice_?" Hamilton demands dramatically, and Aaron starts to giggle with relief.

Alexander isn't offput or disgusted  by how he looks.  He isn't bothered in the least by Aaron's only mostly-feathered wings or extra sets of eyes.  Burr knew that a Demon wasn't likely to find him all that strange to look at, but insecurity had still wormed its way into the days he spent waiting for word from Hamilton, between the hours spent practicing control of his new appendages.

"We can get a mirror," Aaron soothes once his giggles subside, "So that _you_ can watch while I fuck _you_ from behind, too."

"It's not the same," Alexander argues, but he's grinning, so Burr thinks that it must be good enough.

It's good enough for Hamilton, and he is too.


	18. Chapter 18

The war seems to drag on for months, battle after battle, with Alexander's visits to Burr becoming farther and farther between.  It's just before Rochambeau that Hamilton finds time to stop in and see a now regally winged Burr.

They both know that this could very well be the last battle, and the odds don't look good.

"This cause is bigger than us," Hamilton admits quietly, and Aaron nods a resigned agreement.  Winning hasn't been about being together for a long time.  It's about stopping the Third Demon King's reign.  It's about making sure the friends they've made survive.

  
"What is a legacy?" Burr asks.

  
"It's planting seeds in a garden you never-"

  
"We might not."

  
"Don't _say that_."

  
"I'm not giving up."

  
"Then why would you ask me that question?"

  
"Because if you don't get to see the future we build, then I don't want to be around for it either."

  
"Aaron, _no_ -"

  
"Just think of it as another reason for you to do your best to survive this war."

  
"This isn't goodbye."

  
"Then until we meet again, Alexander."

Hamilton wants to argue, wants to call Burr out on that bland smile that always means he's hiding something, but he's running out of time.

"I love you," he says, and only gets another silent nod in response.


	19. Chapter 19

"You're absolutely certain?"

  
"It is more than just not allowed, my Aaron, it is _forbidden_ ," Lafayette affirms.

  
"Great.  I'm doing it anyway."

  
"Where you lead, I will follow."

  
"Are you sure?"

  
"Well," Gil teases, "I have some doubts.  Perhaps this much."

  
He holds his fingers out in a familiar measure, and Burr barks out a laugh.

  
"We won't let that stop us, then."

  
"It will not even slow me down," the Marquis assures with a wicked smile.

  
"To battle?"

  
"To battle."


	20. Chapter 20

Lorens is the first to be felled, and if the death of a friend and ally deserves any thought at a time so critically dangerous as this, it is not 'That's impressive,' but that is where Aaron's mind goes when one of the opposing demons manages to pry Lorens from his turtle-like shell.

Still, every second is crucial, and Aaron's got no time to dally.  His grandfather, however, swoops in with a grand entrance anyway.

"Did somebody call for the cavalry?" he asks with flair, and for a moment the chaos pauses.  At first, the confusion is because they should not be there.  This is not their fight, and their presence is, well, unprecedented.  Then, there is more discomfort, because though clearly armed, it  _isn't_ immediately clear who they're fighting for.

That is, until Hamilton sees Aaron's face and sends him a 'you should NOT be here' glare.  Alexander then proceeds to use the distraction to behead the behemoth who took down Lorens.  When everyone turns at once to stare at him incredulously, Alexander merely shrugs.

"What?  I'm hardly afraid of my own  _boyfriend_."

Aaron  _knows_ that he chose the juvenile term just to annoy him.  Before he can banter back, Lafayette cuts in.

"Allow me to introduce myself as your in-law, then," he says, and proceeds to call down a rain of heavenly blue fire onto their enemies.  It burns them like acid, and unerringly misses every one of Washington's troops.  Burr thinks that it is successfully intimidating for a first meeting shovel talk.

"Hamilton!" Washington shouts as the battle loudly resumes, "Next time a little warning if there will be backup brandishing heavenly magic showing up to save our asses!"

Alex is torn between retorting that he could hardly have  _known_ versus just shouting the expected 'yes sir' and getting on with it, when suddenly he's wheezing at a brass knuckled blow to the solar plexus.

" **You will not harm him**!" Aaron shouts, enraged, and over a decade of repressed protective magics pack quite a powerful punch, but Hamilton's safety doesn't make the battle won.  Aside from that, using the power of an extension of the Voice of God sends Burr into a dangerous dizzy spell, and Aaron thinks as he begins careening towards the ground that it's a good thing the fall probably won't kill him.


End file.
